Understanding
by DanaBlood
Summary: They understood each other. -MorLoki- -OneShot-


I own neither the characters nor the story as it was written by my brother

Enjoy!

**Understanding**

She opened her eyes. They were bright, shining with a green light as they once used to. She looked at her hands, her wrists, she was unshackled. More than that, it was as if she had never been chained – her skin was no longer pale, her lips no longer dry or cracked. She smiled. It was a pure smile that she had not mustered for too much time, perhaps.

She looked around. She was on grassed ground, at the edge of a forest which she could not name, even though it seemed familiar. In the distance, beneath the rising sun, she saw a castle with tall spires and white stones that seemed to glow. She did not know where she was – What kingdom could this have been? she asked herself. Then, she rose from the ground and started pacing slowly towards the borders of the city. To reach it, she judged, would take almost until nightfall.

She was dressed, as she used and was used to, in a long gown, green as her eyes with golden thread running through it. It was velvet and it was clean and not ripped. She tasted her lips and she felt the sweetness of dark cherries. The cherries came from a pouch that she had, tied to her waist, which contained the fruits. In another pouch, she checked, she had water – perhaps just enough to reach the city. Whoever took her to these lands, she thought, wanted her to enter the kingdom before her.

* * *

He opened his eyes. They were bright, shining with a green light as they once used to. He seemed strong again and he ached no more from drifting aimlessly through the stars – his skin was as it used to, blood rushing beneath it, turning it from a sickish, pale white to olive. He smiled. It was a pure smile that he had not mustered for too much time, perhaps.

He looked around, pushing himself up from the sand, but, in a fast movement, a small pouch fell from his belt. The leather bag was filled with dark, sweet cherries. He suddenly realized that their juice was spread on his thin lips, reddening them as if it were blood. He picked up the pouch, carefully tying it around the mouth and placed fastened it on his belt, next to a flask of water. He resumed scouting. He saw it – In the distance, beneath the rising sun, a castle with tall spires and white stones that seemed to glow. What realm did he reach? He knew not.

He started walking away from the beach he woke up on, towards, the castle, and looked at himself. He was dressed in his golden armour and dark green leather, though they were clean and not ripped in shreds, just as they used to be when he had a home. He thought that he could reach the city by nightfall. Perhaps the one who took him to this realm, wanted him alive to reach the kingdom.

* * *

She walked past the trees until she reached grass of a green so light that her dark green clothing seemed to smother the very essence of life out of it. That was when she saw aid – a white horse. A beast which could at least halve the time needed to reach the strange city.

She approached the animal and it bowed its head – it was trained and saddled. She lifted her body on the horse and signaled it to gallop. Indeed, she was a noble, but she was trained in the arts or hunting, swordsmanship and horse riding. Windwalking through the plain, her dark hair flew behind her and she breathed air that made her feel alive.

She drunk the water, on her way, but touched not the cherries. She had reached wooden gates that towered ten metres into the sky and they opened before her. It was obvious that the city was populated, but why would they greet a stranger with open arms, bowing before her? Did they perhaps see the precious velvet that covered her skin or the gold that ran through it? It was not it. She realized this as they greeted her.

* * *

He walked through the sand until he reached grass of a green so light that his dark green clothing seemed to smother the very essence of life out of it. That was when he saw aid – a white horse. A beast which could at least halve the time needed to reach the strange city.

He approached the animal and it bowed its head – it was trained and saddled. He lifted his body on the horse and signaled it to gallop. Windwalking through the plain, his dark hair flew behind him and he breathed air that made him feel alive. He thought he had forgotten how to ride, but, then again, there are some things we never forget.

He drunk the water, on his way, but touched not the cherries. He had reached wooden gates that towered ten metres into the sky and they opened before him. It was obvious that the city was populated, but why would they greet a stranger with open arms, bowing before him? Did they perhaps see the rare leather that covered his skin or the gold that armoured his body? It was not it. He realized this as they greeted him.

* * *

"Welcome, my lady." the two armoured gatekeepers said in a choir. She nodded and smiled slightly, but she was obviously puzzled. Perhaps the king of the land would answer the questions running through her head, she thought, as she followed a path paved with tan bricks between rows of houses and shops made out of wood and hay. She was used to this kind of people, their state, but she was not used to all the heads bowing before her, or, at least, she forgot how it felt. She smiled as she passed between them. They seemed loyal and kind, but why would they bow to one who did not rule them? Was this not an act of treason on these lands?

She had reached the square before the castle that scratched the clouds that drifted away through the sky.

The castle doors were opened before her and she entered to see green and gold, much like the fabric and ornaments that surrounded her body. She walked up the stairs that lead to a long corridor, at the end of which was the door to the throne room. Finally, her questions would be answered – Which kingdom was this? Who ruled the lands? Why was she brought here? She touched the silver door handle and pushed the door open. Her eyes saw a man.

* * *

"Welcome, my lord." the two armoured gatekeepers said in a choir. He nodded and smiled slightly, but he was obviously puzzled. Perhaps the king of the land would answer the questions running through his mind, he thought, as he followed a path paved with tan bricks between rows of houses and shops made out of wood and hay. He was not used to the view, the state of the people, their poverty. He was not even used to the bowing heads or smiling faces, since he had lived his life in the shadows of others. They seemed loyal and kind, but why would they bow to one who did not rule them? Was this not an act of treason on these lands?

He had reached the square before the castle that scratched the clouds that drifted away through the sky.

The castle doors were opened before him and he entered to see green and gold, much like the fabric and ornaments that surrounded his body. He walked up the stairs that lead to a long corridor, at the end of which was the door to the throne room. Finally, his questions would be answered – Which realm was this? Who ruled the lands? Why was he brought here? He touched the silver door handle and pushed the door open. His eyes saw a woman.

* * *

Black, long hair, pale skin, green eyes, green and golden clothing – they resembled each other.

"Who are you?" she asked. "Are you the one who rules these lands?"

"I fear not." he replied, being as confuse as she was. "I am Loki of Asgard. And who may you be?"

"I am lady Morgana, High Priestess of the Old Religion." He neared his eyes, but kept the next question as they were interrupted.

"My lord." said a man that entered the room, after he knelt and bowed before the two. "My lady." he continued. "Raiders have attacked the villages and are nearing to the city." he reported. Not thinking before her answer, she replied.

"Send a party of men to drive them away to the forest, where a second group would ambush them." she ordered and the servant looked at the man, as if asking him for consent. The lord raised his eyebrows, as if asking 'Me?' and then nodded. The servant left the room.

"You seem to know how to act in such situations." he said. "Perhaps this 'lady' is in fact a 'queen'?" he grinned.

"I was. I am not anymore. The throne was stolen from me!" she frowned and gritted her teeth. His smile faded and he turned.

"Is that so?" he asked, quietly, no longer bold.

"You?" she asked. "Who are you."

"I was the king of Asgard." he replied. "The realm was mine, until Thor" he was interrupted.

"Thor?"

"My brother. He stole the throne and banished me and I was left alone, drifting away." he continued. She gasped.

"You and I are much alike." she said. "And this kingdom seems to have to ruler." she continued, approaching one of two thrones that were placed next to each other, yet faced opposite directions. On the velvet covered chair, there was a crown – golden with but one green gem encrusted in it. She touched it while he approached the other throne, the other crown. They both picked them up and walked towards each other, until their bodies were distanced by less than half a metre. They lifted their hands with the crowns in them and, intersecting their paths, they placed the crown they were holding on the other one's head. They turned and sat on the tall, golden-framed thrones. She smirked. He sneered. And with the corners of their sight they saw each other. They saw each other worthy.

"Guard." he shouted and the door that faced the windows right of him opened slightly. "Perhaps we should have a banquet tonight." he said. "Invite all." he commanded and the guard nodded, before leaving.

"Then I shall prepare myself." said the lady as she rose from the throne and exited the room. "Lead me to my chambers." she ordered and left. He rose as well and paced towards the window, towards the setting sun. He looked down on the busy people, working their ways through life and he laughed. She did the same as she reached a large room, like the one she once had. They looked at them as ants, waiting to be controlled and ordered, to be ruled. She opened the wardrobe and searched for a dress that would fit the occasion. She searched between the many displayed inside, but then her face turned pale as she saw a black one. A dress that she knew very well and had worn before. She closed the doors and looked at her bed. Her attire for the night was there – a royal gown, worthy of a banquet and jewellery to fit it. She dressed in silence, pushing the thought of the black dress from her mind, but, ultimately, after the guard had announced the opening of the evening, she opened the wardrobe and she let out a sigh of relief as she saw no dress, no nightmare.

She exited her chambers and, passing through long corridors, she walked down a spiraled stairwell into the ballroom, where the nobles of the lands were waiting. On her face, she wore a mild grin and she kept her sight low, until she saw him, in front of her, travelling down on similar stairs, dressed in a smart suit. Their eyes met, though only for an instant, as they turned their sight away. They reached their seats and everyone was expecting a speech, so they silenced, but, instead of giving a speech, the two kings chose to do something different.

They grabbed each other's hand as they looked forwards to the people and entangled their fingers. They lifted the fist they formed and they smiled and the crowed started cheering with a maddening sound of joy, of obedience for the new queen and king. With the other hands, they picked up glasses filled with red wine, wordlessly proposing a toast. They let go of their tie and, sipping out of their glasses, they sat and the feast began. Between the courses, they had entertainment – jesters, singers, and, at last, they danced, as the skies turned red, though none noticed.

The lord rose from his seat and bowed slightly before his queen. "Shall we dance?" he leaned his hand forward. She took his hand and stood, smiling and formally bowing before him. They both let out a short-lived laughter, before their mouths turned into steady smiles. With two hands tied together, he placed his other hand above her waist, while she placed hers on his shoulders and they began pacing with the music, in rhythms of three and the night passed, the nobles left, the servants began their cleaning. At last, the two separated their bodies and walked beyond their seats, on a round terrace that stood tall above the dark, moonlit sea.

Instead of smiling, perhaps talking, they frowned, placing their hands on the rail that assured none fell from the terrace. Finally, they have noticed – a sky, red, as if filled with the blood of thousands, a pale moon shining brightly and, in the distance, above the ocean, glowing red lights, approaching the city.

"Guards!" they shouted in one voice. They exited the ballroom and they saw the horror – the vile creatures had already reached the city, the castle itself. They were but shadowy silhouettes, with skulls of goats on their faces, eyes glowing a vile red, horns rising towards the sky. While the Shadows, as they named them, attacked the guards, he grabbed her hand. Both, petrified, ran up the stairs together, but a creature followed them and they separated. With the Shadow between, and two more on the way, they had no choice.

"Run!" she shouted. "We'll meet in the tallest tower!" she said to him, even though she had no idea how she knew where to go. He too knew the location, again, not knowing from where. They ran in opposite directions, but, as they turned through the labyrinth of corridors and stairs, they both found themselves trapped, surrounded by the army of darkness. She screamed and he heard her. His instincts told him to save himself, but how could he? Now, more than ever, how could he flee when he found someone who understood him. He pushed his arms to either side of him and let out a shout. The Shadows were pushed away and he had a way to escape.

Her scream, though, was not one of fear or capture. It was one of freedom and power, as she had cast a spell to throw the creatures away. She ran, up the stairs, towards the tower and, as she opened the door, he opened another one. For an instant, they stared at each other, but then they smiled and ran towards each other in a dear embrace.

"How did you escape?" she asked. "Do you have" she hesitated.

"What?" he asked.

"Magic?" she responded.

"You were trained in the art as well, then?" he asked her. She smiled, relieved, knowing that he would not cast her away because of her gift.

"Yes."

"We have no time, the city is falling." he turned, towards a window, and looked far, seeing flames and hearing screams of desperation.

"We need not care." she answered, approaching him. "We do not need them. We need each other."

"Yes," He answered. "but not here, not now." he turned.

And blood began to fall. She pierced his body with a dagger, while his dagger pierced hers.

"Why?" she asked, but knew the answer. They both answered.

"This world is not real. This world is not ours." They took the blades away and fell, closing their eyes.

* * *

She opened her eyes. She heard a screech. It was the dragoness, Aithusa, her weak, underfed body tying itself around hers. She was back in the shackles, back in the black dress, black in her prison, too small for both her and her only friend. She was weak, tired, starving and in pain, but the pain was not as much physical as it was deep in her very core. She had finally found someone like her, someone who understood her and they faded away. The awkward stranger, Loki of Asgard.

* * *

He opened his eyes. He looked right, then left and saw the faint light of a dying star. His armour was scratched, shattered, his clothing torn, his face and hands wounded, bleeding. His lips were dry and his body craved food, as he drifted again in the endless space. But it was not the physical pain he could not bare. It was a pain deep, pain in his very core. He had finally found someone like him, someone who understood him and they faded away. The awkward stranger, Lady Morgana.


End file.
